Petrograd by Philip Gelatt. 3/5
Petrograd is the story of the murder of Rasputin by Russian nobles. Told through sepia-toned graphics and a fast-paced series of dialogues and events, the book delves into rumors that the British SIS and its agent Oswald Rayner (here called Clearly and given a backstory that complicates his involvement) in the plot to kill the Tsarina’s advisor. The story is speculative, but well-told and bookended with statements about the facts of the murder by the author and by a historian of the period.
In a Garden Burning Gold by Rory Power. 1/5
I was really enjoying this–neurodiverse characters, characters doing smart things and learning from mistakes, interesting plots and conflicts, a terrific world (although the magic system is vague and makes little sense)–until the villain is revealed to be the character coded as autistic. Really? Oh yes, we autistics, we have no love for family or anyone, we don’t have the same emotions as others, we’re machine-like evildoers. It made me furious. I am still furious. I’d give it 0 stars if I could.
Sticker by Henry Hoke. 5/5
A short, wide-wheeling meditation on the material culture of queerness and queer childhood in particular, Sticker is full of surprises and thought-provoking ideas. I love the approach to a vast topic through the lens of something small, and Sticker succeeds brilliantly at it.
Circus of Wonders by Elizabeth Macneal. 4/5
The newest big entry into circus lit, Circus of Wonders delves into the social model of disability, the Victorian obsession with “freaks” and difference, and the relationship between the body and class in the period. Nell’s father sells her to a traveling circus, and while she rails against being betrayed, she soon finds a place, albeit an uneasy one, amid the other performers in the show. Made the star attraction after just a few weeks, Nell catapults the circus to fame as it sets up shop in London. But rivalries and jealousy and guilt and pride will bring down the entire enterprise, leaving Nell to consider how she really feels about her differences and abilities, and what she wants from life. This would be a good book club read, focusing on disability and bodily difference,
Memory Speaks by Julie Sedivy. 4/5
Memory Speaks is a combination memoir and research book that delves into the author’s own experiences of language learning and retention and recent scholarship in the area. The result is an intriguing blend of information and ideas that got me thinking about my own language learning and memory, and generated a lot of conversations on the topic. The blend of autobiographical information and case studies makes for an enjoyable read, and while I personally want to see more citations and information on some of the studies referenced, this book should be a good fit for anyone interested in how we learn languages, retain them, and lose them, and how community, activities, and age factor into those aspects of communication.
She Came from Mariupol by Natascha Wodin. 4/5
A detailed and personal account of the author’s search to learn more about her mother, an enigmatic figure whose traumatic experiences during WWII colored the rest of her life and the lives of her children. With only a scant bit of information, Wodin begins her quest online, connecting with other family history researchers, genealogists, survivors, and more. Each foray into the life of her mother’s immediate family reveals more heartbreak and suffering, but these are stories worth telling and remembering, including details of the Nazi’s forced work camps in which residents of Eastern Europe were sent to Germany to work; the looting and violence that occurred during the chaos of the Russian Revolution; and the coping mechanisms victims found–or couldn’t find–in the aftermath. At times the writing is a bit clunky, and sometimes the side-trips aren’t well integrated into the primary purpose of the book, but overall it is a testament to the need for historical records and documents and evidence, and to the author’s determination to learn about her family.
An Unlasting Home by Mai Al-Nakib. 2/5
The various plots and stories of this novel should be gripping: a young professor charged with blasphemy, her aunts’ and mother’s lives upended by politics and religious obligations. But the writing is stilted and old-fashioned, like a mannered novel from the 1950s. Much of it reads like journalism, like reporting, rather than a creative narrative, and the sentence structures rarely vary. Maybe it’s the alternating chapters in past tense and present tense, but the read was rocky. In addition to the mannered writing, the characters are stiff, their actions melodramatic or at the opposite end of that spectrum..
Three by Jennifer Jenkins. 2/5
While the subject matter–the plague–is timely, I’d recommend readers go to other books and even plays that imagine the inhabitants of Eyam in place of this book. Jenkins tries to create intrigue and drama in Three, but the characters and sense of place are flat and dull. Eyam’s history is fascinating, but this book doesn’t live up to the promise.
Dressed for Freedom by Einav Rabinovitch-Fox. 5/5
I really enjoyed this book on the history of fashion as a bellwether for feminist movements and progress. Rabinovitch-Fox has found some truly unique and interesting sources, and sews together the various forms and designs of women’s wear and activities. Chronologically arranged, the book begins in the 1890s, detailing how the media played a role in driving fashion; how, as women opened up new opportunities for themselves, fashion adapted and how designers even offered commentary on such opportunities; and how women used fashion for political purposes. From Gibson girls to Gloria Steinem, this book is both an entertaining read and a deftly constructed and thoroughly researched work of scholarship.
